


too many things reeling

by afteriwake



Series: In So Few Words [225]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Confused Sherlock Holmes, Feelings, Inspired By Tumblr, Jim Moriarty in Sherlock's Mind Palace, M/M, Moriarty is Dead, One-Sided Sherlock Holmes/Jim Moriarty, POV Alternating, Sherlock Holmes is Bad at Feelings, Sherlock's Mind Palace, sherlock is dying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 22:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17496728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: Sherlock has thoughts of the one truest love he's had as he's dying.





	too many things reeling

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for **weweremadeforeachothersherlock** , who asked for a Sheriarty fic. It's not long but I had inspiration from [this post](https://the-modern-typewriter.tumblr.com/post/162622140318/i-really-thought-you-could-save-me-the-hero) that I used for this.

“I really thought you could save me.”

Sherlock held Moriarty close, as his mind reeled, as often as it usually did, as pain overtook him. “I thought I could too.” 

Here in the safety of his mind palace, Moriarty lived. And there were apologies and words exchanged and feelings admitted but most importantly, _Jim Moriarty lived_.

He hadn’t realized how empty he felt after the situation on the roof. Moriarty died there, lying in a pool of blood while he’d had to fall like an angel fell from heaven after killing the devil on his shoulder. Temptation, the tempted...there was so much between them.

Hate.

Loss.

Intelligence.

Boredom.

_Love._

Yes, as much as he loathed to admit it aloud, he loved Moriarty, or at least loved what he had been. Maybe loved the man himself; there was something about Moriarty that drew him in, deeper, deeper, until it was all-surrounding, all-encompassing. And there was a form of love of the comfort of being surrounded by the dark.

And he had been safe in his mind palace, once Sherlock had let him out of the prison he’d kept him trapped in when he had to focus. Laser-like, straight and narrow, not a path he walked very often but his focus could be straight and narrow.

Was he straight? Was he not? He didn’t know. His mind was full of questions.

And now, after having him alive in his brain for so long, having a million iterations of a relationship, a million interactions, a million lives lived in the dreams and halls and walls and the palace itself…

“I really thought you could save me.”

Moriarty held Sherlock close, as their mind reeled, as often as it usually did, as pain overtook them. “I thought I could too.”


End file.
